


new beginnings

by russiasnataliaa



Series: forever and always [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, Bucky Barnes Feels, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Dark Past, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Married Couple, Married Life, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Natasha Romanov Feels, Protective Bucky Barnes, Red Room (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russiasnataliaa/pseuds/russiasnataliaa
Summary: “I…” she started, still looking for the right words to start the inevitable conversation ahead. She couldn’t back out now, he already knew something was up. “How do you feel about… kids?” she asked gingerly. Clearly he wasn’t expecting anything along those lines because he was speechless for a few seconds. Eight long seconds. She counted.or natasha telling james she's pregnant and him being overjoyed.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Series: forever and always [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654330
Comments: 15
Kudos: 131





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> this work is dedicated to jayne, xx.

Natasha roused with a headache.

She yawned, slowly opening her eyes and stretching lazily with her arms up by her head. She frowned slightly in realization that she wouldn’t be going back to sleep because the dull throb was only getting more prominent by the second. Slightly annoyed, Natasha turned to her other side in search of Liho, the ball of fur she’d gotten greatly attached to over the years. Said kitten was curled up on the far side of Natasha’s pillow, sleeping peacefully. Somehow, she must’ve felt her staring, and awoke with a big yawn - or as big as a kitten could yawn - and stretched languidly. Gold eyes glinted in the warm sunlight that streamed through the curtains as she turned over on her back, bearing her stomach for her owners touch.

“You always want my attention, don’t you?” Natasha whispered, slowly stretching her arm out to scratch the kittens belly lightly. “If I’m being honest, I think we spoil you too much,” she said, chuckling softly when Liho meowed in return. “Or maybe it’s just me.”

Before she could finish her one-sided conversation, a particularly loud snore sounded behind her. He was known to many as the Winter Soldier. To others he was Bucky, and out on the field he was referred to as Barnes. But to Natasha, he was simply James. The person who she'd thought she lost a lifetime ago. The person who became her safe haven when she felt vulnerable and exposed. The person who taught her how to love and be loved. The person who brought her sanity in their world of constant chaos. The first person she’d committed her life to when she said, “I do,” four years ago and became _Mrs. Barnes_.

He’d never been a morning person, which was something she’d learned about him in the earlier stages of their relationship. She turned slowly under his arm, trying her best not to make the headache worse, and sighed contentedly before taking in the comical sight before her. His mouth was ajar, and a thick line of saliva was coming down onto his pillow. Before they went to bed last night, Natasha had insisted on giving him a bun, which - after his pouting - turned out rather nicely. Now though, James’ hair was disheveled, a bunch of his locks framing his face and partially covering his eyes. His flesh arm was draped around Natasha’s waist, while the metal one was propped beneath his pillow. Natasha chuckled softly as he snored again, startling Liho and causing her to jump down from the bed and wander out of the room. Attention back on James, she thought to herself on what she did to deserve him. Her reverie was cut short though, when he sighed softly.

“You know,” he started, eyes remaining shut. “It’s impolite to stare,” his voice still husky from sleep. Of course he knew she was watching; he was a _master spy_ after all, what did she expect? Natasha rolled her eyes playfully before responding with a soft, “I’m not staring, _ya voskhishchayus’_ ,” a small smirk growing over her features. _I’m admiring you_.

“Mmmm, I’m flattered. I’m starting to like you, too,” he mused, awaiting her comeback.

“Just _starting_ to?” she laughed. “The ring on our fingers and shared last names would imply something more, don’t you think?”

“Ah, touché.” he said, finally opening his eyes to look at her, a smile appearing as soon as he laid eyes on her. James loved mornings with Natasha. There was just something about the fact that he got to see her before the world and everyone else did that made him feel overjoyed, dare he say, maybe even a little possessive. And the fact that he got to see a side of her that nobody else did was more than satisfying.

She was beautiful, and he took in all the little details about her everyday. This morning, her hair was almost as messy as his at the moment, her bright, red waves splayed out onto both their pillows. She smelled amazing, something like baby powder. And although she wasn’t facing the window at the moment, her emerald eyes still managed to glint at him. She looked at peace, something he only got to see from her in the privacy of their home. Staring at him through her lashes, Natasha asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?” a light blush making its way across her cheeks.

“Like what?”

“Like… like I’m the center of your universe.”

“Cause you are.” he stated easily. Natasha had reacted by taking her elbow to cover her face, which in turn caused James to smile, pleased with knowing that he could still bring about reactions like this after so long. “I know you may not think so, but -” he began, tugging her arm away gently, and lifting her chin with his index finger, so she could look at him. “- if I were to lose you, my world would stop spinning.”

Natasha knew exactly what he meant, because she felt the same. There was no doubt that James was her strength, but also her greatest weakness. He was the one constant in her life, and if she were to lose him - the thought alone made her feel sick - she wouldn’t know how to move on. Realizing that a few seconds had passed and she still hadn’t responded to him, Natasha placed her hand on her chest and kissed him chastely on his lips.

“You won’t,” she whispered. “And I know I can’t promise that, but you know I try my hardest to come back to you. Always.”

“I love you.” he kissed her on her forehead, then her cheek.

“And I love you.” she smiled, brushing her nose against his while giving him a few butterfly kisses, a gesture that only he had the luxury of receiving. “What’s on the agenda for today?” he started stretching, pulling Natasha closer with his right arm and groaning loudly.

“Remember we have Stark’s fundraising party to go to?”

“Awe, _moya lyubov'_ , I’m gonna be honest with you, I’m not feeling too hot and honestly -” James rambled as he burrowed under the covers again. “- I don’t think Tony would miss us. Just tell him that -”

“ _James_ , I promised Pepper we’d be there,” she brushed his face gently, and his features softened at her touch. “ _I perestan' byt' takim rebenkom_.”

He scoffed. “I’m not being a brat, I was -”

“You were just whining.” said Natasha matter-of-factly as she pulled the duvet away from him. “And don’t even get me started on your _pouting_ because -”

“Yeah, yeah,” he yawned, wondering to himself on wherever he could’ve gotten _that_ habit from. “Are you hungry? Actually don’t answer that, of course you are.”

“Of course I am,” she grinned. ”You know I love your cooking.”

“Correction, you love _eating_.” he poked the side of her stomach playfully with his index finger, to emphasize the last word.

“You know me so well,” Natasha patted her stomach lightly as James stood up.

“Yeah, well, I had to find _something_ to do on my free time,” he walked across the room to his drawer and pulled out a pair of navy blue sweats. “And getting to know you has been decent. Might find something better -”

“Not possible, but if you do, tell me,” she giggled, his laughter joining hers a moment later. “I’m off to the kitchen,” he announced as he stood by the door, a smile still on his face from laughing before. “D’you want coffee or tea?” he asked. She thought for a few seconds before deciding that she was in the mood for tea this morning.

“Alright. See you downstairs, doll.” he said, flashing her a quick smile and wink before disappearing down the hallway. Despite him being gone already, Natasha realized she still wore a small smile on her face. Not that it was a bad thing. She _loved_ someone. She loved James, for that matter, and she’d finally accepted that it wasn’t a bad thing. The person she used to be in the Red Room believed that love was for children. But yet here she was, doing exactly what they trained her not to. If only her instructors could see her now. Feeling, caring, and _loving_ for someone. They’d be furious. And Natasha couldn't help but feel _just_ a little satisfaction in knowing that she wasn’t the perfect machine they’d wanted her to be.

* * *

Ten minutes of lazing around and a hot shower later, Natasha came downstairs at last, clad in a fitted, grey long sleeve t-shirt and one of James’ boxers. She watched him by the stairs quietly just as he placed a few bacon strips into the frying pan, and when she was sure she was completely out of his line of sight, she snuck up behind him. Or at least she tried to.

“You know for a master spy,” James began, not even having to turn around to know she was there. She stopped short, just before she was able to reach him, dropping her arms in defeat. “You suck at trying to scare me, _lyubov_.”

“You could at least _pretend_ to get scared” she closed the space between them while sighing, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head between his shoulders.

“Mmm, but wheres the fun in that?” he laughed, flipping the bacon so the other side could cook. “I enjoy watching you fail terribly.” he grinned, causing Natasha to flick him playfully on his back before he turned around, leaning against the counter.

“You’re such a bully,” she said as she pulled away from him, crossing her arms in a way that he just found downright _adorable_.

“And you’re cute when you pout. And when you wear my clothes,” he smirked, nodding toward the pair of navy blue boxers she took from his drawer. She couldn't help the blush that was creeping up her neck, and despite his approbation, she tried even harder to look mad. But of course James and his stupid smile won her over, which only caused her to smile and hug him.

“You’re gonna burn it, you idiot.”

“Natalia, I think you’re mixing us up. You’re the one who burns food,” he chuckled, emptying the bacon onto plates to join the scrambled eggs he’d made earlier. “Which is why I’m stuck as being the chef of this house.”

“Not true. I can cook, you just don’t let me.” she said over her shoulder as she walked over to the kitchen island, climbing up on one of the stools. James came over with their two plates and sat across from her, a bottle of syrup tucked under his arm.

“Remember that time I had a mission in Venice when I was gone for like two weeks? And you told me that you were going to make me, and I quote, ‘a special welcome home dinner,’ and by the time I got home -”

“You’re never gonna let this go, are you?” she sighed, pouring syrup on only her eggs and toast because to her, _bacon and syrup is_ _nasty_.

“- the smoke detector was going off, you were saying, like, _fifty_ different curses, and don’t even get me started on the mess you made,” he laughed, taking a forkful of eggs. A small pause came before she spoke again.

“You should teach me. That way you won’t have any more embarrassing stories to tell. I mean, imagine the people finding out that the Black Widow has flaws,” she smirked behind her cup of tea. He returned her smirk before joking about “what an utter disaster” it would be. A comfortable silence fell upon them soon after, with their forks and plates colliding or an occasional soft sigh being the only sounds present at the moment. It was days like this, James thought, that made him fall in love with Natasha even more - if that was even possible. The slow, domiciliary days where they did nothing but relish each other’s presence? He lived for them. And it's not like they didn’t spend time together on a regular basis, but some days, like today when they were _both_ given the day off, they were able to enjoy it a bit longer.

Breakfast was always one of his favorite things to share with her. He knew how she liked all of her meals, and noticed all the little habits she had when she ate. Like how she didn’t like her bacon crispy, and how she loved her eggs doused with syrup. How she only sat on the left side of the table in the mornings because ”the sunlight hits him better from that angle,” but sat on the right side for dinner. The chairs were almost too tall for her, but she liked them that way because she got to swing her feet better. And she preferred having black coffee during the week, and chamomile or peppermint tea on weekends and days off. James could have made a list on all of her tendencies. But the point was, he loved this. Absolutely cherished it. James, however, was pulled from his musings when he noticed Natasha had abruptly stopped chewing. Her hand, which was holding a forkful of eggs, began to tremble slightly as she stared down blankly at her plate.

“Tasha… Is everything okay?” he asked slowly, ducking his head a little to get a better view of her face. She had no idea what had happened. One minute she was fine, enjoying a nice morning and one of her favorite meals with James. Then out of nowhere she could’ve sworn her stomach had done a couple flips, along with a small wave of lightheadedness. Whatever it was hadn't been serious because it only lasted a few seconds and she felt fine now. 

“I’m.. I’m fine. My stomach just feels a little weird, that’s all.” she said. James sat silently in thought for a moment, his brow furrowing vaguely before he spoke again.

“Is it...?” he asked softly, motioning to his lower stomach area, which was his way of asking if she was on her period without _actually_ saying it. God, he's just the cutest. She shook her head and smiled at his innocent implication before telling him that, no, it wasn’t cramps, just her stomach acting up. Come to think of it, Natasha couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually had her period. Yes, the sterilization that the Red Room had performed on her wasn’t the most… _taintless_ version of a hysterectomy, which as a result caused her to have cycles that never came at the same time every month. But it had been slightly over two months, and by now Natasha was sure she would’ve gotten _some_ sign of her period coming up. Could she be… Nope. Forget it. She was sterile. The Red Room made sure of that during her graduation ceremony. And though she and James (mainly him if she was being honest) had some hope of her getting pregnant, she knew that the chances of _that_ ever happening were as good as none.

“Could it be the eggs? Or maybe the bacon? I can make you something else if this -”

“James,” she interrupted, reaching out for his hand and giving it a squeeze of assurance. “I’m fine,” He watched her for a beat longer before returning the gesture and going back to his meal, her hand still in his. They slipped back into regular conversation soon after, sharing ideas on what Stark’s decorations would be like this year and who would be there. And for a moment, Natasha began to think that maybe she really _was_ okay. Maybe it was just the eggs.

But then it came again. And again Natasha tried to ignore the twist of her stomach, which only resulted in her dropping her fork and gripping James’ hand tight as she tried to gain control of her body. She felt her mouth begin to fill with saliva and dry-heaved above the table. A beat later she was hopping down from the stool and making a dash for the bathroom as fast as her feet could take her. But it was too late.

_Way to go, Natalia._

She’d managed to throw up practically all of her breakfast onto the floor, about three steps (if so much) away from the bathroom. Oh, how the Universe loved her so. James’ footfalls were heard coming down the hall, and stopped behind her as he laid a comforting hand on her back, his metal arm sending a wave of greatly appreciated coolness over her body. She didn't have to look at him to know how concerned he was now.

“Hey, look at me. You okay?” he asked, worry hinting at his voice. He turned her around gently by her shoulders to face him before caressing her cheek with his thumb. “Maybe we should take you to the --”

“To the hospital?” she snapped as she headed back to the kitchen. “You know how I feel about it.”

“Natalia, you’re shaking and you’re pale -”

“I promise you I’m just a little sick, that’s all.” Natasha brushed past James again, cleaning products and paper towels in hand.

“You and I both know that you don’t get sick," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s probably just…” she bent down and started spraying at the mess as James watched her closely. “... some virus that slipped past my defenses. Simple.” James knew there was no arguing with Natasha when it came to stuff like this, so he figured he’d just let her have her space and check in periodically.

* * *

Okay, in retrospect, maybe she shouldn’t have snapped at James away like that; he was only trying to help after all. Natasha couldn’t help but feel at least a bit contrite everytime James came around her, asking her if she was okay or needed anything, especially with his little puppy-eyed expression. About an hour or so after breakfast, Natasha left her spot in the living room where she’d spent her time reading a book and glancing up at the TV every now and then.

It’s minutes to two by now, and although Tony’s party technically starts at seven, he wants the Avengers to be there an hour early Natasha knew that she would need about two hours for her and James to get ready without having to rush, which left her about an extra two hours to run her special errand.

* * *

Natasha’s in their room, clad in distressed jeans and her favorite hoodie - from James of course - when he walks in, leaning against the door. “How’re you feeling?” he asked as she searched through her closet for shoes to wear. She settled with a pair of grey sneakers, looking up at him as she toes them on.

“Uhh, better. My stomach settled and my head stopped spinning.” she states. He smiles softly at the new information, relieved at the fact that she’s feeling better. He supposed that maybe it was just a little mishap with breakfast, and that it wasn’t anything serious.

“Where're you headed, miss thing?” he asked, gesturing at her outfit.

“Oh, just to the pharmacy to get a few things. Need anything?” she replied as she crossed the short distance between them, resting her head on his chest and sighing softly at the contact. He hummed out loud and tapped his finger again at his chin dramatically as he pretended to think, causing Natasha to roll her eyes playfully. “There’s nothing coming to my head right now, but I’ll be sure to call you if I think of something,” he said, patting her lower back fondly. She hummed before pulling away and heading downstairs, James just a few steps behind her so he can walk her out. Grabbing her keys and purse off the side table and pulling her jacket on, she asks him once more if he needs anything, claiming he had a habit of “waiting until last minute to ask for things,” which of course he denied. Giving her a quick kiss to the crown of her head, he assured her again that he’d contact her if needed.

“I’ll be back in about fifteen. Don’t make a mess, watch Liho, and don’t run around with anything sharp -” she starts to joke as she unlocks the door.

“Who do you think I am?” he interrupts, hand on his chest in mock offense. “Sam? Tony?” he says and she laughs.

“It takes one to know one, don’t you think?” she quips back.

James rolls his eyes playfully, lightly pushing her out the door by her shoulders and then hitting her on her bottom just before she got out of reach.

“You’re literally a pain in the ass, you know that?” she sighs over her shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. I could say the same about you,” he returns. “I love you,” he calls out just before she reaches the gate. She smiles in return, knowing she doesn’t have to say the words out loud for him to know what she feels toward him. They’ve known each other long enough to communicate with facial expressions alone.

* * *

The walk to the pharmacy wasn’t a long one seeing that it was only three blocks away. Walking through the automatic doors, she gave a quick smile to the security guard, and made her way to the third aisle.

In reality, the “few things” she was getting was really just one thing. A pregnancy test. Never in her life did Natasha think she’d actually have to come in this aisle of the pharmacy. Which was why she knew where they were without having to search around. She always remembered aisle three as the one part of the store that didn’t pertain to her, for _obvious_ reasons.

But yet here she was.

“New Choice… First Response…” Natasha mumbled. What the hell was she supposed to choose? After deciding upon the latter, she walked to the cash register and paid for her test. On her way back home, she thought to herself on whether or not she would really be pregnant. What would James think? He’d been okay with the fact that there was pretty much no chance of her ever getting pregnant. Would he even want a child anymore?

“Now is not the time to think negatively, Natalia,” she whispered to herself. “Let yourself have hope for once.”

Easier said than done.


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> natasha gets her results and finally breaks the big news to james.

By the time Natasha arrived home, she was a nervous wreck.

Taking the test, per se, was no problem. Having to see the results, however, was the part that rattled her to no end. If it came out positive, she’d be happy of course. But she had no idea how to care for a baby. Yes, the Barton kids were basically family, but she wasn’t their mother. She didn’t carry them for nine months, or ever lose sleep because they were crying at four in the morning. Though if the test came out negative, she would be disappointed for sure. It would only be a reminder of what the Red Room took away from her. She supposed she’d cross that bridge when she got there.

“James, I’m back.” she called out as she closed the door behind her. A few seconds later, James appeared from the living room, stopping in front of her to place a kiss on her forehead.

“Her Highness has arrived. I missed you,” he said, slightly dragging out the last word just for her amusement.

“It’s only been twenty minutes. You’re such a baby,” she smiled while he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I learn from you. What’d you get at the pharmacy?”

“Well for one, I am _not_ a baby,” she said, poking him softly in the stomach for emphasis on the ‘not’. “And I didn’t get anything exciting. Just tampons and toothpaste.” Technically, she didn’t lie. She did, in fact, buy those products. The tampons gratuitously, and the toothpaste because they actually needed it. She just left out one detail.

“Mmm. I was about to get a snack from the kitchen, want anything?”

“Not really hungry. I’ll be upstairs, though.” she said. She placed a kiss on his cheek, and he returned one to her temple before they parted ways.

* * *

By the time Natasha finally got the courage to pee on the stick, her heart was beating twice as fast as before. She was down to about a minute before the stick would justify whether or not she was actually pregnant.

For someone who’d fought aliens, evil robots, ran from the government and fought even _more_ aliens, it was ironic how something as simple as a pregnancy test had her so worked up. Not that it was really _simple_ , she thought as she sat on the closed lid of the toilet seat, rapidly bouncing her leg in an attempt to calm her nerves. The answer that would come up on the little circle in less than thirty seconds may or may not affect the rest of her — and James’ — life as she knew it. What if it came out positive? How would she tell him? What would he _think_? Did he already have his mind set on the fact that they may never have kids? How could—

**Rrrt, Rrrt, Rrrt.**

She’d set a timer for when the pregnancy test results would be ready, and now that the dreaded three minutes were up, she had to actually _look_ at the test. Reaching toward the edge of the sink, she closed her eyes, scared that she would see the test before she prepared herself for whatever the result was. After mentally counting down from 10, she opened her eyes and looked down to find two, vertical lines inside the digital circle.

_“Two pink lines is a pregnant result (even if either line is faint).”_

That was what the directions had read on the box.

Natasha blinked. Her hands began to shake and her chest felt tight. _Two pink lines_ . She stared down at the white, tiled floor, trying her best to process the new information. A million thoughts rushed into her mind at once. How was this even _possible_ ? The Red Room had sterilized her and she’d gone throughout her life with her mind set on the idea that she’d never have any _biological_ kids. How many weeks pregnant was she? Would it be a boy or girl? And what the hell was this wet stuff dripping on her shirt? Natasha touched her face and realized that she, believe it or not, was crying. Not because she was sad or angry, but for the complete opposite. She was _euphoric_.

This was a good thing.

She was getting the family she’d always dreamed of. Not that James wasn’t family. He was more than that. James was her everything; she’d married the man and taken his last name after all. And there was no doubt that the Avengers were considered as family, too. But this… this was going to be her own— _their_ own _._ A child that came from both her and James. God, she was about to be a _mother_ . Her husband, who happened to be completely unaware of what was going on, was going to be a _father_ . The whole idea of James holding _their_ baby made her giddy with excitement.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there crying and smiling to herself, but she knew it must’ve been a while because when she moved, her back and bottom hurt from sitting on the hard seat. She stood up and stretched, her arms raised above her head and going up on her tippy toes. As she washed her face of the tear marks from before, she wondered how she was going to actually tell James. Her finding out for herself was one thing. Having to actually break that kind of news to someone was another.

Then there was Stark and Pepper’s party tonight. At that moment, James’ proposition to stay in bed and call in sick was sounding pretty tempting. But Tony _did_ mention he had something to tell them, so as bad as she wanted to stay home, she didn’t really have a choice.

Putting the cap back on the stick and placing it in the pocket of her sweatpants, she threw the box away and opened the door slowly, listening for James. It was quiet aside from the faint murmur of the TV in their room. Taking a deep breath to collect herself, Natasha left the bathroom and walked down the hall to their bedroom and stopped by the doorframe. In there, she found James, munching on a pop-tart while half-heartedly watching the news with what seemed to be SHIELD documents laid out on his lap. _Always multitasking._

“Hey,” she said softly, a smile gracing her face just at the sight of him doing something so basic (which was a pretty big deal for both him _and_ her considering the type of life they lived before). He looked up and returned her smile, face lighting up almost as if he hadn’t seen her all day.

“Hey yourself,” he returned, patting the empty space next to him, an invitation for her to keep him company. She walked over and climbed up next to him, wiggling her feet a little to position herself comfortably under the duvet, and resting her head on his shoulder.

“You’re gonna rot your teeth if you keep eating those things,” she said, alluding to the small pack of S’mores flavored pop-tarts in his hand.

“First of all, little miss - ” he broke off another piece and popped it into his mouth. “ - _you_ were the one who’d practically pouted at me to get them down for you in the grocery store because you’re too short to reach the top shelf,” he replied, smiling softly at the memory from just three days ago. She chuckled to herself, also remembering the day.

“Whatever. Is that for the new Auckland mission Fury gave you?” she asked, nodding toward the files on his lap.

“Mhmm,” he nodded. “Shouldn’t be too long though. I’d say three days tops, if so much.” he said. She hummed softly in acknowledgement before looking down and starting to toy with her fingers in her lap. Eventually, James realized that, in addition to that, she was slightly shaking her foot, which caused the duvet to shake also. She’s nervous, he knows this, can see it in her body language and the way she plays with her hands. She only fiddled when she was feeling anxious. Not that she ever told him that directly or anything. James just happened to be very observant when it came to her (he was a damn _spy_ after all) which made up for the things she didn’t tell him directly. Over the multiple years that they’d known each other, he’d picked up on countless habits she had and what they meant. But what was causing her to feel that way? Maybe, he wondered, something happened when she went to the pharmacy? But she seemed fine when she came home. Realizing that guessing games were clearly getting him nowhere, he placed the files to the side before turning to look at her, giving her his undivided attention.

“Talia?” he said softly. “Is something wrong?” she hesitated for a second before finally stopping all her movements. As she thought of her next words carefully, her eyebrows furrowed slightly and her lips twisted to the side in concentration. He could tell whatever was bothering her had to be pretty important.

“Hey, look at me,” he prompted, concern clear in his voice. “Whatever it is that has you so wound up –” he lifted her chin up to look her in the eye. “– you can tell me, love. Talk to me.”

“I…” she started, still looking for the right words to start the inevitable conversation ahead. She couldn’t back out now, he already knew something was up. “How do you feel about… kids?” she asked gingerly. Clearly he wasn’t expecting anything along _those_ lines because he was speechless for a few seconds. Eight _long_ seconds. She counted.

“I… love them?”

She chuckled dryly, trying to ignore the returning tightness in her chest. “You don’t sound too sure of yourself there, James,” she said before dropping her head back down to play with her fingers.

“Shit- no no no, I didn’t mean for it to come out like _that_ . But I do adore kids, you know this. I would love to have one or two of our own. A girl and a boy maybe,” he stared blankly at the wall ahead of them, almost as if he were imagining it at the moment. “A boy first of course, so he could protect his little sister. Not that she wouldn’t be able to defend herself, though. I mean, her mom would be _the_ Black Widow, she’d be untouchable,” and at that, Natasha laughed softly, causing James to smile. “But… due to a series of some… _unfortunate_ events, we kinda got that privilege taken away,” his smile dropping slightly as he reached out for her hand and squeezed it in comfort.. “Why? What’s on your mind?”

 _Great,_ now she was tearing up. With the way he was looking at her — like her well being was the most important thing in the world to him, like whatever was bothering her was starting to get him upset, too — how could she not?

 _For fucks sake, Natalia, just_ tell _him._

Instead of doing just that, she used her free hand to reach into the pocket of her pants, pulled out the pregnancy test and handed it to James. He examined it for a while, turning it slightly and staring attentively at the stick, which seemed extremely small compared to the metal hand he held it in. He looked back and forth between her and the test, clearly not understanding what the two pink lines meant. She inhaled slowly before letting out a sigh.

“I’m pregnant,” she let out softly, her voice barely above a whisper. If it wasn’t for having enhanced hearing and sitting so close to her, he would’ve definitely missed it. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, which scared Natasha to no end. Which was saying something, because there were only a handful of things that she feared. Was that not what he wanted to hear? What if he just said all those things to make _her_ feel good? She was fully crying now, her negative thoughts running wild in her mind, which caused a small whimper to leave her mouth despite her best efforts. At that, James noticed the effect of his lack of response and moved to embrace her, holding her as close to his chest as possible and pressing his lips to the crown of her head. He moved his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Natasha beat him to it.

“I-I’m sorry,” she cried.

“Woah, why are you apologizing?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, pulling her back slightly so he gently wipe at her tears.

“‘Cause you didn’t _say_ anything, so I thought you were mad or - ”

“Mad?” he chuckled, the beginnings of his own tears making his eyes glassy. “I didn’t say anything because I’m speechless. Natalia, I’m _psyched._ God, I- the one thing we thought we could never have, and yet here we are,” he said as he wrapped his metal arm around her shoulders, pressing his lips to the crown of her head while his flesh hand patted her thigh comfortingly. “Is that why you were throwing up this morning?”

“I guess so. And, if I’m being honest, I bought all those tampons for no reason. I haven’t gotten my period in weeks. Not that that’s out of the ordinary ‘cause of my butchered Russian surgery,” she chuckled to herself, obviously finding herself _hilarious_ despite talking about such a touchy subject. “But it _has_ been a while.”

“So, if you felt something was up, why didn’t you come to me, love?”

“Didn’t wanna worry you ‘bout something as dumb as _not getting my period_ ,” she said softly, wiping at her tears with her wrists. “‘Sides, I guess I… I didn’t really think anything of it until today.”

“What’d we say about that?” he asked. She sighed as she leaned back into the pillows, clearly not in the mood for _this_ conversation. “If something’s going on with you, whether you think it’s _dumb_ or not, you tell me,” he said, patting the lower part of her thigh in time with his words. She mumbled a quiet okay, and they sat comfortably for a few moments before James spoke up again. “Can you believe it? We’re gonna be _parents_ , Talia,” he whispered the last part, almost as if this news was just _too_ good to be said out loud, like if the universe heard them, he’d wake up from a dream only to be met with a cold reality. At least, that’s how his life _had_ been.

Until he met Natasha.

Here he was, sitting in bed next to his wife, finding out that she’s currently pregnant with _their_ child. Could life get any better than this? Well, he supposed it certainly would. In just a few months he’d be holding his new son or daughter (he was secretly rooting for a girl) in his arms and filled with so much _joy_. Even more than he was feeling now. His reverie was cut short though when Natasha suddenly leaned up and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. He, in turn, put his arms around her back, interlocking his fingers and holding her close. A few beats passed before she cleared her throat to speak.

“Thank you,” Natasha whispered, a small smile gracing her face, despite him not being able to see it. He had a feeling she wasn’t finished, so he stayed silent, giving her as much time as she needed to put her thoughts together.

“For as long as I can remember, everything and everyone I’ve ever known left me in one way or another. My parents, other girls from the Academy, my _childhood_ … all gone,” she stated quietly while listing them off with her fingers. He couldn’t see her face, but he could tell by the strain in her voice and the way that she gripped his shirt lightly that she was on the verge of crying again. “But you, James, have been the _one_ constant i-in my life. So I’m thanking you… for staying,” she finished with a sniffle. He was quiet for a beat, rubbing small circles on her back in hopes to help her relax.

“Hey, love, look at me for a second,” he prompted softly, tipping her chin up so he could see her face clearly. “I _love_ you, Natalia. I have since the first day I met you — just a pale little thing with bright red curls, about 5 feet tall,” he said while using his index finger and thumb to show how ‘small’ she was. She slapped him playfully on his arm, mumbling under her breath about how “she wasn’t _that_ short” since she _did_ grow almost three inches taller over the past few years.

“But nothing is changing that,” he continued. “When I lost you all those years ago, it… it _broke_ me, Natalia. And having you back now still feels surreal. So I would never leave you — I _can’t_ find it in myself to do that. You complete me, and a life without you is… it’s a life I don’t wanna live. I love you too much,” he admitted softly, resting his forehead against hers as he looked into her emerald green eyes. She looked back at his steel blue ones, feeling immediate warmth wash over her. It was simple things like this — hearing his heartbeat, staring into his eyes, or hearing his laugh — that helped ground her when she most needed it.

“And as scary as it is,” she began, returning her head back to her place on his chest as before. “ _ty menya tozhe dopolnyayesh_ ,” she whispered. **_You complete me, too._ **

* * *

The two had lost track of how long they sat there on the bed, holding each other and talking about the new addition to their life. But it was James who’d happened to glance at the digital clock on his side of the bed which read four forty-seven, and had interrupted Natasha, who happened to be in the middle of explaining why she refused to have their daughter take _ballet_ classes, to suggest that they should start getting ready.

“Or we can stay home if you like,” she half joked. She really _did_ want to stay home at this point. Crying was exhausting.

“Nah, I don’t mind going now,” he said honestly. Well… that wasn’t the answer she was expecting. Pushing herself up from under his chin, she sat up lazily and looked at him in confusion.

“But this morning you said that - ”

“Yeah, that was _before_ I found out that my wife was pregnant. I’m in much better spirits now,” he smiled.

“Mmm, I guess I should tell you good news more often. It makes you happier,” she said. “Maybe next time I wanna go to the mall or something, I’ll tell you something good so I won’t have to go alone like usual.” she smirked, already knowing he’d have something to say in return.

“You don’t _always_ go to the mall alone,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. “You go with Pepper and Maria and Wanda. Besides, I like being surprised,” he said with a wink.

“Of course you do,” she returned. “But seriously, it's time to get ready,” she sighed, slouching back down onto his chest.

“Y’see, you _say_ one thing, but you’re doing the opposite,” he chuckled.

“'m funny that way,” she said, her words muffled by his chest. He chuckled as he moved them to the edge of the bed, placed his hands under her arms and lifted her up as he stood to his feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and placed her arms around his neck, sighing softly as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Who’s the big baby now, huh?” he teased, walking them over to her closet.

“Hmm,” she hummed, pretending to think about her answer. “Still you,” she answered, and he chuckled before placing her down softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember that this is my first fic, so please comment any suggestions or things you liked!! xx


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maybe staying in bed was a better idea...

If James was being honest, parties and events (especially the big, elaborate ones thrown by Tony Stark) weren’t really his scene.

Taking out more than a dozen armed enemies or interrogating a suspect? Light work. It was second nature at this point. But when it came to undercover missions and social settings? Well… let’s just say that that was more Natasha’s métier than his. Which was pretty ironic considering how often Fury sent them on undercover missions together. But even then, it was mainly her who did the talking.

But he wasn’t Natasha, and this wasn’t a mission.

This was real. All he had to do was be himself. There was no debrief or cover telling him how he was supposed to act or what to say, which was what made things like this so complicated. It’s not that he didn’t _want_ to be himself, it was just _difficult_ . Every time HYDRA had his mind wiped in the past, more and more of his past life had been stripped away to the point where he couldn’t really tell what was “James” and what was “Winter Soldier”. And don’t get him wrong, Shuri and the other Wakandan doctors did an _amazing_ job with helping him heal. But, personality wise, there was still some part of him that just _wasn’t_ back yet, a part of him that just needed more time. He always felt like people still saw him as the Winter Soldier rather than Bucky. Always worried of saying or doing the wrong thing, he usually kept quiet or stood in a corner by himself with a drink in his hand.

Not that he minded.

In his opinion, getting ready for any party was far more thrilling than the actual event. Watching Natasha get all dolled up — he was aware of how much she enjoyed when he used his forties references with her — was another one of his favorite things. The way she’d ask for his opinion on which pair of heels she should wear or whether or not she should wear her hair up or down, which lipstick color he preferred— 

He lived for that.

Which was why he couldn’t help but smile as he watched Natasha in their en suite, a look of pure concentration on her face as she did her makeup. He’d just finished picking out his suit for the night and decided to wait until she was done to go and clean up. She looked beautiful like this. Hair still damp from her shower, leaving her hair in soft, dark red waves flowing past her shoulders, almost to the middle of her back. She was wearing one of his sweatshirts —the grey, US army one with the tiny tomato sauce stain at the bottom— and a pair of boyshorts, As she rummaged through her makeup bag —the red one Sharon had given her two Christmases ago— she hummed to herself softly, tapping her foot to match her tune. His heart swelled with affection, finding her doing the simplest of things adorable. He’s not sure when exactly she’d noticed his staring, but eventually she turns her head to look at him, smirking when she sees the look on his face.

“Take a picture, James, it'll last longer,” she teases softly, leaning over the sink on her side of the bathroom on her toes to apply her mascara.

“Why take a picture when I have the real thing with me all the time?” he returns. He gets up from his spot on their bed and takes a few strides to the bathroom, standing behind her as he slides his arms around her waist. She smiles at his comment, looking at him through the mirror as she leans back into him, grateful for his touch.

“You look great,” he says, resting his chin at the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. Natasha isn’t one to really feel any satisfaction from being called out on her looks. And it’s not like she doesn’t appreciate it, no, that wasn’t the case at all. But with men _constantly_ seeing her for only her outward appearance, it lost meaning to her over the years. It disgusted her, even, when her marks would be bold enough to think that she was nothing more than a “pretty face,” or that they had a chance of getting to know her. James, of course, was different.

“I’m not even finished yet,” she chuckles, subtly moving her head to the side to give him space. “And I’m not dressed yet, either,” she gestures toward his shirt.

“Doesn’t matter,” he starts placing light kisses up her neck and along her jawline, pushing one arm of the shirt off her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. “You look good either way – ”

“Although, for the record, I think you prefer me _without_ clothes rather than with, considering how much time you’ve spent taking them _off_ – ”

“You’re not that different yourself, Natalia,” the sound of his voice right in her ear and his kisses on her neck sends shivers down her spine, and that’s all it takes for her to turn around and press her lips against his hungrily. She knows exactly what he’s doing, could’ve bet on it. James has a tendency of almost always finding his way over to her while she’s getting ready. One time, they’d gotten a little _too_ carried away, which resulted in them being late for standard surveillance on their target. Long story short, Fury was _not_ happy and didn’t put them on any missions together for a month.

All thoughts left her head though when James deepened the kiss, which elicited a soft moan from her, simply because she _loved_ this. She relished in the slow, languid kisses they shared during the day. The soft, lingering touches they’d give each other. She held those intimate moments close to her heart. The two of them stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, for a few minutes until Natasha begrudgingly pulled away, telling him it was time they got a move on.

“Aww, you’re no fun,” he’s pouting now, mostly for Natasha’s amusement, but partially because it was his immediate reaction.

“We can have _fun_ when we come home,” she smirks. He hums in agreement, but the hunger in his eyes tells a different story. Without preamble, he lifts Natasha onto the edge of the sink, moving her legs apart as he kisses her again, placing his hands on opposite sides of her face. She can’t help but smile against the kiss because _he’s such a teenager_. But then again, deep down inside, so is she. Which was why she couldn’t deny him a few moments of the youth they dreamed of before patting his chest softly.

“Hey now, loverboy. We don't have all day,” she reminds softly.

He pulls away slowly, gently holding her bottom lip between his teeth for a second longer before sighing and pressing his forehead against hers. “I know. I just needed a moment.” he admits quietly, a small smile on his face. _Could he be any cuter?_ Returning the smile, she pats his cheek gently before hopping down with a soft grunt.

“Go shower. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave,” she reaches up to ruffle his hair. “I promise.”

“Alright. You’ll do my hair for me?” he asks before she steps out of the bathroom.

“Not like I have a choice, James,” she says over her shoulder. “If it was up to you, you’d go everywhere with your hair down.”

“What would I do without you, _milii moii_?” he says, mostly to himself, but she hears him anyway, and throws him a playful wink as she shuts the door behind her.

* * *

“Are you ready yet?” calls James from downstairs. He’d been standing by the front door with his hand on the doorknob waiting for Natasha to come down so they could leave. They haven’t even gotten in the car yet but he’s already itching to take his hair down from the bun and loosen his tie. At long last, Natasha comes down the stairs looking exquisite as per usual, and James can’t help the blush creeping over his cheeks and down his neck.

He always gets like this despite how long they’ve known each other. She’s always been beautiful, this isn’t anything new. But can you blame him for getting nervous? He doesn’t deserve her. He’s hurt her, in more ways than one, and he’ll probably never forgive himself for that. So Natasha still wanting to be with him after all the bad that he’s done is still a pretty big deal for him. 

“Keep staring at me like that and I might have to tell Stark I’m not feelin’ too well,” she purrs when she gets next to him. 

“Don’t see a problem with that,” he smirks as he opens the door for her. _Always the gentleman._ After locking the door behind him, he rests a hand on the small of her back as he leads her to their car, and she smiles inwardly. Natasha couldn’t explain it, but she always got a warm feeling in her chest when he did small things like that. Whether he was holding her hand while leading the way across the street or simply opening doors and pulling out chairs for her. As someone who has to be on top of things at work all the time, it felt good to have someone else be in control every now and then. That someone being James. And maybe, _just maybe_ , she was a little submissive when it came to him, and that was saying something because Natasha didn’t let anyone have any sort of dominance over her, at least not if she could do anything about it. But James and her had built this trust where they knew that when they let their guard down, they’d know that the other wouldn’t take advantage.

“Your chariot awaits, your Highness,” he bows forward a little, his metal arm folded behind his back, the other gesturing to the passenger seat. Natasha doesn’t have to look at his face to know he’s grinning like an idiot. _My idiot_.

“You’re such a dork,” she snorts, rolling her eyes playfully as he offers his hand to help her into the car.

“But you love me, anyway,” he says before shutting her door and going around to the driver's seat. _More than words can explain_. He gets in, putting on his seatbelt and starting up the car. He turns on the radio for her, knows how much she likes to change the stations, humming along softly music or listening to the radio talk shows for background noise. Pulling out the driveway, he lays his hand open on the armrest, an invitation for her to hold it. Not that she needed one, she was going to hold it anyway.

The facility is about a thirty minute drive from their house, maybe less since traffic is pretty light. As James drives onto the main road, he glances at Natasha, who’s propped her chin atop her other hand, and resting against the passenger door. She already looks like she’s a million miles away, eyes glazed over, her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and her almost pouting.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, duchess?” he asks quietly. Though his eyes are back on the road, he’s caressing the back of her hand with her thumb, silently encouraging her to speak. But he knows Natasha too well to know that she isn’t going to flat out say what’s on her mind. It’s _Natasha_ after all.

“You think I’m pretty?” she teases, pleased with herself. She knows she’s beating around the bush, trying to buy herself more time to put her thoughts together. He shakes his head in amusement.

“Among countless other things, yes,” James smiles. “You knew that already, though. What’s the matter?” he asks again, soft but firm. He wants to cut to the chase. He hates when she’s alone with her thoughts, wants her to voice how she feels, because he knows how it feels to not have anyone to talk to about what you’re feeling. It fucking sucks. And Natasha’s had more than enough pain to last a thousand lifetimes. She doesn’t need anymore.

“It’s just…” she sighs, a few moments passing before turning to look at him fully. “What if something happens?” she says quietly. He had a feeling this would come sooner or later. Apparently sooner.

“Something…”

“Like what if I can’t carry the kid to term,” she says like it should be obvious. “Not even just that. I’m basically a worldwide target,” she starts ranting. “And even if I _was_ to give birth, as much as I want this, I don’t think I’m fit to be a good mother— ”

“Tasha,” he interrupts her, squeezing her hand a few times to calm her. “The kid will be fine. Let yourself have hope for once. Even if there are any complications, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. And that’s _if_ that bridge is even made,” he says, giving her an assuring smile as they stopped at a red light. “And I don’t think there’s a chance of you being a _bad mother_ ,”

“What makes you say that?” she asks softly, eyebrows furrowing again, this time in confusion.

“You’ve gone soft, Romanoff,” he laughs softly. “You and me both, if I’m being honest here,”

“Really?” she chuckles. “How so?”

“We were both trained to not have feelings, and when we tried to go against that — well you know how _that_ turned out,” he begins, and she smiles sadly, knowing exactly what he's referring to. “Now here we are, years later, _married_ and with a child on the way. They wanted us to- to be _machines_ , and that for a while they succeeded. Now, we use our skills for good, and life is _great_. There was a time when I thought I’d never have a chance at this kind of life. Yet here we are.”

“Yeah,” she smiles finally. “Here we are.”

* * *

  
  


They reach the facility soon after, locking the car and linking arms when James comes around to meet her. It’s a warm night, but a cool breeze blows every now and then. After being checked by security, Natasha looks up at James who’s glancing at the ceiling expectantly. A few moments later, the well known voice of the facilities’ AI sounds throughout the area.

“Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Barnes,” greets FRIDAY.

“Hey, FRIDAY,” is Natasha’s response.

“Yeah, that’s never getting old,” James says, smirking as they walk to where Tony had asked them all to meet up.

“Sap,” she bumps into him playfully as she fails to hide a smirk of her own.

“Oh please. You know you love it, _Mrs. Barnes_ ,” he purrs into her ear as an involuntary shiver runs down her spine, and his smile grows wider. The sound of her name -- her first and _his_ last name -- on his lips, always makes her heart flutter. He’s right, she loves it, and at this point? Almost everybody knows it.

“Shut up,” she chuckles as they enter the space where the event is being held. Tony, Steve, Sam, Pepper, Clint, and a couple more of their friends who’re situated at the bar turn their heads when they hear their laughter.

“Ahh, Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf have arrived at last!” exclaims Tony, raising a glass of Scotch toward their direction, and James tries hard to not roll his eyes in annoyance.

“I’m not little,” she states when they get closer.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he snorts, pulling her into a brief hug after he and James awkwardly shake hands. They’re still trying to get past their differences, and Natasha is beyond proud of the both of them for that. They’re making progress.

“Now that we’re all here,” Sam starts. “What’s so important that you needed us to show up before the party _actually_ started?”

“Well…” Pepper speaks up, smiling and leaving Maria to stand next to Tony. She held out her left hand, revealing a _very_ expensive engagement band. Or at least Natasha assumes it has to be expensive because no ring that has a rock that looked like _that_ could be bought easily. And also because it’s Tony and he only buys the best for Pepper. Gasps and congratulations fill the room instantly as they all move to hug the couple.

“Took you long enough, Stark,” teases Maria, a glass of white wine in one of her hands.

“Yeah, well, I figured I’d get some that life Rogers used to go on about. I found my Mrs. Stark a while ago, it was just about waiting for the right time.” Tony explains, pulling Pepper close to him. “After Romanoff and Barnes over there — ” he gestures toward them with his own glass, “— made it official, I thought, ‘if two world class spies can make marriage look so easy, maybe I can do it, too’” he concludes, laughter filling the air.

They go on like this, sharing jokes and asking about the future wedding, until people begin to arrive for the party.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Natasha and James had been with each other for most of the time, up until Steve had called him over to settle a childish argument he and Sam were having. He tells her he’ll be back in a few, and kisses her temple before heading in the direction of his friends. _I hate to see him go, but I_ love _to watch him leave_ . Laughing at herself quietly for being so damn corny, she spots Pepper and Maria, chatting it up at the bar and decides to join them. Natasha isn’t one to make friends, she’s not really an expert in the social department (at least if it’s not or a mission). She’d only met Pepper during an undercover mission in her earlier years of joining SHIELD, acting as Tony’s “assistant,” Natalie Rushman. After finding out who she _really_ was after her mini Justin Hammer interrogation, Pepper had offered to go out to lunch one day. And she knew Maria because she was the third person she met from SHIELD after she defected, Clint and Fury being the first two. She’d taken a liking to her “no bullshit” attitude, figured it reminded her a bit of… herself. Long story short, the trio had gotten pretty close as time went by, and Natasha could say she was glad to have people besides James that she could confide in, woman to woman.

“Well, someone’s looking rather happy tonight,” she hears Pepper say as she arrives in front of them.

“Me? I always look like this,” replies Natasha, taking a seat next to them.

“No, no, I see it, too. You seem different. Not in a bad way, of course,” Maria says, giving her a smile. Before Natasha could answer, though, a waiter stops by offering vodka and martini’s on a platter. She cringes inwardly as she declines, knowing that one of them would say something in just a matter of seconds.

_Three, two…_

“Hold up.” _And there it is_ . “Natasha Romanoff? Saying no… to vodka? Yeah, if something wasn’t up before, something _definitely_ is now. Spill,” Maria prompts, leaning in closer and resting her chin atop her hands like a child waiting for a bedtime story, just to be annoying.

“I promise you, nothing’s wrong,”

“You may be a world class spy, but you suck at lying to us,” Pepper chimes in.

“Gosh, you sound like James now.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, Nat,” Maria sips at what appears to be a pina colada. At that moment, Pepper’s jaw drops, a smirk appearing on her face soon after.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Mariaaa,” she draws as if she knows something the other woman doesn’t. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Maria’s eyebrows furrow slightly, shaking her head slowly in confusion. Natasha, who’s ready to deny whatever Pepper’s about to suggest, feels a light tap on her shoulder. James. _Saved by my husband_.

“Hello, ladies,” he greets with a wave and a soft smile. “Congratulations again, Pep.”

“Thanks,” she smiles back. “I’m assuming you successfully ended their little “argument”?” she nods toward Steve and Sam who’re currently chatting it up with Tony and Rhodey on one of the couches. He nods slightly and chuckles in response.

“Yeah, you know how they get,” he says. “Probably the two most competitive people I know… Well, besides this one here,” he smirks, gesturing down to Natasha in front of him, and they all laugh. Honestly, he’s surprised that he’s talking this much with someone _other_ than Natasha, Sam or Steve. Not that Pepper or Maria have ever shown any animosity toward him, or gave him any reason to _not_ talk to them, but they felt more like Natasha’s friends rather than his. At that instant, a female waitress dressed in a black, button down and black slacks comes over, platter in hand. Izabel is what her name tag reads.

“Hors d’oeuvres?” she asks, her voice light and bubbly. She lowers her arm, revealing spiced, garlic shrimp with toothpicks in the middle for guests to pick up easily. James smiles and gives the girl a _thank you_ before reaching for three of them, one for him and two Natasha since he knows how much she loves them. Natasha takes it with a smile, but panic courses through his body noticing how her face has paled _tremendously_ a few seconds later.

_The goddamn smell._

Before he can say anything though, she’s making a run for what he assumes is the bathroom, pushing past partiers and a few of their friends with her left hand thrown over her mouth.

Natasha’s saying a silent prayer as she’s rushing past everyone. She’s not religious or anything, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and she’s pretty sure _this_ qualifies as desperate.

_Why the hell would you sit so far from the bathrooms, Natalia?_

Vomiting in the privacy of her home with only James to see her was one thing (and even _that_ was embarrassing), but in front of hundreds of strangers and her friends? Um, yeah, _not happening_. She’s not exactly sure how she managed to actually get there, but the next thing Natasha’s aware of is how cold the seat of the toilet is on her cheek and how her knees are starting to ache from basically throwing herself on the white, tiled floors. About five minutes have passed when her body decides she’s had enough for the night, and she flushes everything away. It’s when she’s finished rinsing her mouth and about to reach for a piece of paper towel to dry off when she hears the door open and a pair of footsteps approaching her.

<“You okay?”> he asks, effortlessly switching to her native tongue because he knows it’s easier for her to express herself that way.

<“Mm, just tired.”> is her quiet response as she reapplies her lip gloss, and it’s the only thing she can think of saying that sums up how she’s feeling at the moment. For Natasha, today has been _long_ , and all she really wants is to be wrapped in one of James’ sweaters sleeping up under him for the rest of the night. She finally turns around to look at him and his face alone makes her want to cry for the second time today. He’s clearly worried about her, hates seeing her miserable and not herself. And he must’ve read her mind because the next thing he says is , <“I think we’ve partied enough for tonight. Let’s go home?”>

At that, she closes the space between them, hugging him tightly and pressing her cheek against his chest. It’s taking everything in her to hold her tears back because she’s _not_ going to give James anything else to stress about. And she knows he isn’t one to judge, especially when it comes to her, but she wishes she could just get a grip already. She hates not having control over her body and her emotions.

<“Yeah… Home sounds good.”> she says, her voice muffled by his suit. James hums in agreement as he rubs her back slowly, hoping that he’s helping her in _some_ way. And he is. He lets her recollect herself, and kisses the crown of her head before they leave the bathroom, hand in hand.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It doesn’t take James long to explain to their friends that Natasha is fine, that she just ate something bad earlier on. He had her wait in the car, not wanting her smell anything else to make her nauseous. After hugging everyone and saying goodbye for both him and Natasha, he heads back out to take them home. As he settles inside and puts on his seat belt, he notices her hand is already laying on the armrest, waiting for him to take hold of it, and he doesn’t waste another second to do so. She’s looking outside with the window rolled down, but she lightly squeezes his hand three times, and he smiles, remembering what her gesture means.

_I love you._

  
  


* * *

  
  


It doesn't take them long to get home, and they’re both grateful for that. As soon as they get inside, he runs a bath for her while she undresses in the bedroom. When she steps inside the bathroom, he’s already put out a towel and one of his sweatshirts for her. Her heart swells at how well he knows her, not that it’s a surprise, and she leans up to kiss him in thanks.

Eventually, he leaves her alone, wanting her to take as much time as she needs to relax. In the meantime, he’ll take a shower in the guest bathroom.

About half an hour later, Natasha emerges from the ensuite, hair brushed out and pulled into a high ponytail. A smile appears on his face when he sees her, and she returns it. It grows even wider when she notices a black ball of fur playing with James’ metal fingers. _So much for not liking each other_.

“Ah, her Highness has arrived,” he announces and she can’t help but roll her eyes affectionately.

“You’re, like, the corniest person I know,” she states, climbing up next to him in their king sized bed.

“Then I guess you haven’t met yourself,” he teases, handing Liho to her when she stretches her hands out for her, making little grabbing motions with her fingers. She laughs softly at his remark as she brings the kitten up to her face, pressing soft kisses to her and rubbing her against her cheek, and in James’ opinion, it’s the best sound in the world.

The two of them talk quietly with each other until Natasha’s eyes start drooping and her words start coming out slower. She’s about to say something when he cuts her off.

“You’re tired,” he states softly. “You should get some rest.”

“You need rest, too,” she yawns. “I’m sure you’re tired after watching me be an emotional wreck and comforting me all day.”

“That, Natalia —” he reaches to turn off their lamps, pulling her closer to him under the duvet. “— Is something I’d _never_ get tired of.” he smiles in the dark, and Natasha swats his arm playfully.

He’s too adorable.

<“James?”> she calls quietly after a few beats pass.

<“Yeah?”>

<“I know I said this today already, but thank you.”> And, gosh, her voice sounds so small compared to his and it makes him want to keep her wrapped in his arms forever, protecting her from all harm and danger.

<“You’re welcome, my love.”>

And that’s how the three of them fall asleep, wrapped protectively around each other, ready for whatever challenges the next day brings. James isn’t confident that the next few months will go… _perfectly_. But he’s sure of one thing.

He’ll be with Natasha through it all, every step of the way.  
  


**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i finally finished my first fic! what do you guys think? i'm so excited for the other ideas i have for this series!!  
> also, thank you so much to all of you that left kudos and comments!! i appreciate you all, xx.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing this couple and i'm really excited for the rest of this series! i'm NOT a professional, so please feel free to give me any feedback or things you enjoyed!! xx.


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